by Peyton Storm
Once Greyson was gone, Paisley cleaned up the living room. I stood, dumbstruck, as I watched her put her things away without being told. A couple hours later, the doorbell rang. The young woman at the door had her hands full and spoke through a large bouquet of Calla Lilies and Baby’s Breath, and another smaller, identical bouquet.
“I have a delivery for a Ms. Presley Rae Manning and a Miss Paisley Manning-Masters.”
Peanut stumbled her way towards her bedroom, carrying a bouquet that, while smaller than mine, was still bigger than she was. I’d barely had time to thank the delivery person, tip her, and place my own arrangement on the table before Paisley came running, card in hand.
“It’s from Mr. Tack, and he said I’m the bestest hostess ever!”
Close. She mainly knew it was from him due to the purple ink he’d used on the card. She rummaged through the junk drawer until she found the Scotch tape and hurried back down the hallway.
Over the next few weeks, Greyson and Paisley’s lunch date became a recurring event. He even set up a professional, ninety-minute massage for me while he and Paisley watched Draft Day and ordered Chinese. I often found myself watching from the sidelines as the two of them got to know one another. Carter, as always, was amazing. He’d sit and listen to our daughter gush over her favorite baller. His smile was never anything short of genuine. Long ago, he’d told us both, “Whatever makes you both happy,” and he’d meant it.
It wasn’t until one night a couple of months after Greyson’s return when he’d had too much to drink that Carter opened up about Matthew. It was then that I was faced with just how selfish I had been when it came to Carter. I knew his relationship with Matthew was rocky, but never had it dawned on me that I could be the issue in Carter’s love life. Matthew struggled to understand mine and Carter’s dynamic, and when push came to shove, Carter had chosen us. His family.
The more he opened up, the more I realized just how much Matthew was missing out on. I needed Carter to be happy. Not to alleviate any misplaced guilt on my part, but because he deserved it. Anything less simply wouldn’t do. I loved him, he loved me, and anyone who couldn’t accept that would never truly be a part of our lives. When I’d asked, do you love him? for a moment, I thought the call had dropped.
“I can’t love someone who only wants parts of me.”
It wasn’t a yes, nor was it a no. It was, however, the end of that conversation. I’d never push him for more, but I was sure to remind him that he could always come to me with anything. Always.
A few weeks later, as we all started to settle into our new normal, Dad decided to take his granddaughter fishing. Paisley was packed and ready to go by eight a.m. Live fish were “yucky” but she loved going fishing with Pop-Pop. We’d packed them a lunch the night before. The cooler was as big as she was, but she was dead set on hauling it down the driveway all by herself.
Once they pulled away, I ran back inside to finish packing up my own cooler.
“Come on in!” I called out in response to a knock at the door while filling a couple more water bottles.
When there was no answer, I went in search of him. When I rounded the corner, I found Greyson standing just inside my front door, taking up most of the space in my foyer. His hands were shoved inside the pockets of his navy blue basketball shorts, causing them to hang even lower off his hips. His gaze was towards the floor as he shifted his weight from side to side, from one foot to the other.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
I thought he’d be more comfortable by then, given he’d been to the house quite a few times, but apparently, I was wrong. His smile was timid, but he laced his fingers with mine and led me to the truck.
It’d be a couple of months before the water was warm enough, but we locals hit the beach year-round regardless. Even with a chill in the air, we rolled the windows down as we drove past the jetties. Cool and cloudy meant we’d pretty much have the beach to ourselves. Once parked, we dropped the tailgate and crawled into the bed of the truck. We sat on the edge of the tailgate with our legs swinging back and forth as we ate freshly made breakfast tacos and a berry mix of both black and blue. We ate in silence and looked straight ahead, taking in all the sights, sounds, and scents the ocean has to offer.
After a few minutes, Greyson passed me a napkin just before he hopped down from the truck.
“Refill?” he asked, thermos in hand.
“I’m good, thanks.”
With a sly wink, he lifted me from the truck and gently lowered my bare feet to the sand. When he reached for the hem of his shirt, I was tempted to toss the run aside. The fucker knew it, too. He tossed his shirt aside, and with a shit-eating grin, he stepped in close.
“Behave, darlin’.”
“Shut up,” I teased and took a head start.
We’d done this back in high school. A run around the block was one thing. Running on sand took it to the next level. We ran side by side for the first couple of miles, but on the way back to the truck, he came to a jog and fell behind me.
“Get those knees up, rookie!” I teased and upped my speed.
Greyson, of course, couldn’t resist and chased me all the way back to the truck. I leaned against it, drawing in much-needed air to recover from our run. He stepped close, hooking my shorts with his index finger, and pulled me in.
“I won,” I breathed against his lips. “What’s my prize?”
“Goddamnit, Pres.”
He bit at my lip, wrapped his hands around my hips, and lifted me onto the back of the truck. He climbed in behind me after retrieving an oversized blanket from the cab. I sat between his legs while his chin rested upon my shoulder, and we looked out towards the waves. The wind picked up. and my attempt to wrangle my hair was a failure at best. Greyson placed his hands over mine and gathered my hair at the nape of my neck.
“When I went away,” he whispered and started to braid my hair down the center of my back.
I started to pull away, as it wasn’t a conversation I looked to have. Not at that moment, at least. Still, he pressed on.
“It has to be said Pres. I mean, we’ve discussed it, but you deserve an explanation, a true apology. And Pres? I am sorry.”
My vision blurred, and so I closed my eyes while still drawing from the sound of the waves to steady me. He paused for a moment. I could only assume it was to give me a chance to respond, but really, what was I to say? I couldn’t honestly say that all was forgiven, nor could I say it was something I’d never be able to move on from.
“Come here,” he whispered and urged me to turn towards him. It took some maneuvering, but eventually, after I turned to him and draped my legs over his, we sat eye to eye. I was careful to not mutter the words he wanted to hear, nor words I would later regret. Instead, I voiced a not so simple request.
“Can we just start with today? See where it goes?”
The corner of his mouth tugged to one side before he leaned in.
“As you wish.”
And with a deep groan, he drew my bottom lip between his teeth and slipped his hand between us.
“One day at a time.”
I nodded in agreement and let him take me away…
Chapter 31
Greyson
I’d been in Ocean Falls much longer than I’d initially anticipated. Both Presley and Paisley were slowly becoming a welcomed constant in my life. I didn’t really have anything to compare her to, but Paisley was easily the coolest kid on the planet. I spent as much time with the both of them as I possibly could. Doc viewed it as positive progress but stressed that taking it slow was ideal. During an emergency session, I talked about mine and Presley’s day at the beach.
It started off innocent enough. I’d just wanted to share her space, get a workout in, and listen to the sound of her voice. Next thing I knew, I was confessing, falling just short of pleading. She was
uncomfortable with the conversation, and I had to respect that. Presley had never been able to accept an apology. Not to say she wasn’t a forgiving person; hell, I was living proof that she was. But it wasn’t something she ever managed to get used to. Her mama had never reappeared to offer her one, and I thought maybe that set the tone, but who was I to psychoanalyze?
As hard as it was for Presley to hear those words, she let me speak them anyway. I was sorry before I’d crossed state lines. I was sorry when I changed my phone number to keep her from contacting me. I was sorry when I chose not to reach out with passing birthdays and holidays. I was sorry when I did everything I could to erase each and every memory of her. And yet I did it anyway. Why? Because I was, indeed, sorry. A sorry excuse of a man who continued to choke on his own pride at every single turn.
When she didn’t fully accept my apology that day, I decided to continue to offer it to her, bit by bit, piece by piece, in ways she wouldn’t feel so weighed down. I’d start by at least attempting to right the wrongs from when we were kids. For once, I’d put her first. We were a bit of a mess, but a mess I’d fight for. Always.
We spoke every morning, and every morning, I’d first ask, “How’d ya sleep?” Most nights, she didn’t lay next to me. She was a mom after all, and it was important to both of us that Paisley came to accept things, to accept me in their lives, slowly. That didn’t mean there weren’t date nights. Dax buried himself in his work, and the draft was just weeks away, so that left Weezy to me.
Just like back in high school, my pulse would stammer the second I turned onto her street. I’d make my way to her door, a full bouquet for Pres and a mini duplicate for Paisley in my hands. I always made sure to have one for her, regardless if she was there to answer the door or not. Sometimes she was with her dad, who I’d come to a tentative agreement with. The main thing we had in common was that we’d protect them both at all costs...and the fact that the other Texas team sucked.
Sometimes I’d arrive and be greeted by Mr. Manning, who still had reservations and rightfully so. Other times it was Belle who’d look after Paisley while Pres and I were out. She’d usually greet me with suspicion and doubt written across her face. Also warranted. To be honest, it was better than her greeting me with the barrel of a gun like before.
Some of the locals mentioned reporters lurking around, so when we went out, we were sure to hit up the mom and pop type places that wouldn’t show up on some app. The media still had a lot to say—a strong opinion about me, my past, the draft, and where I’d call home in the NFL. There was no way of knowing which reporters were in town or if they were looking to do a redemption piece or to dig up as much dirt as they possibly could.
I’d hoped that one day the public would see Pres at my side, as my other, better half. Pre-draft just wasn’t the right time. I didn’t want her to be faced with any more drama than absolutely necessary. That’s not to say we hadn’t been photographed or filmed a time or two. But Ocean Falls, once Brady left town, continued to be our little bubble. Once the thrill of my return home wore off, which hadn’t taken long, Pres and I walked freely. Were there stares and occasional whispers? Sure, but according to Presley, she was used to it.
That hadn’t been easy to hear. She had nothing to be ashamed of and anyone who thought otherwise, I’d happily hand their ass to ‘em. For the most part, the town embraced us both. Paisley, according to Pres, had never faced any bullshit. Some town gossips had a lot to say, but even they respected the fact she was just a child. A child who now had me added to the list of people who’d always have her back.
Pres and I headed to Galveston for Mardi Gras and were able to avoid all the live news crews, but Dax made sure to shoot me a text with a few screenshots of grainy pics he’d come across online. We decided to stay the night, and I wanted to spoil her a bit if she’d let me. We called for room service, and for the next hour, I sat, completely enamored, as Pres made her way through a medium-rare ribeye the size of my foot. I’d beaten her by less than two minutes, but what the hell, we were both athletes and needed our protein.
The island made it easy to find an ocean view room, even with Mardi Gras going on for the entire week. I laced my fingers with hers and led her out to our private balcony overlooking the water. I wrapped my body around hers to shield her from the chill as we leaned over the railing and watched both locals and tourists take it all in.
There were couples walking hand in hand, draped in gold, green, and, of course, purple beads. I pressed closer until her hair tickled the tip of my nose. She eased back against me when I placed my hands on top of hers and squeezed the railing tighter. Looking down, over her shoulder, I found myself transfixed by the sight of the moonlight enhancing the contrast of our skin tones.
I swept her hair aside, in need of a taste of her neck. Her body tensed and then gave way when she felt me drop to my knees behind her. When not in workout clothes, Pres always loved a simple, thin-strapped tank top with a long, flowy skirt that reached her barely-there sandals. My little hippy, I used to tease, but really, she was the one who teased effortlessly. When I gathered and lifted the material from along her ankles, she took a step outward to widen her stance. I savored, treasured, and thoroughly consumed her that night as though it were my last.
Truth be told, I thought maybe it would be. The past few weeks had really amped up my confidence that I would indeed be drafted in the first round. With thirty-two teams in the NFL, guessing where exactly was still a crapshoot at best. North, south, east, or west, I would make it work. I had to.
I let her sleep til room service knocked on the door. Pres had always been the little bit of everything type, so that’s what I ordered. When I nuzzled my nose against hers, she moaned and stretched every inch of her body. I’d have loved nothing more than to turn them away and service her my damn self, but we had to head home soon. Home…
Still, I couldn’t help myself and tasted her before she had the chance to taste, pick, and choose from all that room service had delivered. She drizzled her scrambled eggs with a bit of raw honey, with both blueberries and sliced avocado on the side. And, as always, chased it with a strong latte with half in half instead of milk and no sweetener. She smiled at me from over the rim of her mug.
“What’s that for?
I found her smile to be contagious.
“I dunno, last night? This morning? Everything? Does it really have to end?”
Never.
I sat my own mug down, rose to my feet, and reached for her to join me. With her hands in mine and our foreheads pressed together, I asked for today, tomorrow, and always. One step…one day at a time.
Epilogue
Paisley
“After a trade with Cleveland, with the eighth selection in the two thousand and seventeen NFL draft, the Houston SteelHorns select Greyson Ty Thomas…”
I was just four years old that day, so while my memory is a bit faint, those words from the then commissioner of the National Football League, still rang in the back of my mind. Little did I know it would ultimately set my own future in motion, both personally and, eventually, professionally.
I found it odd that Mama would leave a graduation gift on my pillow the night before graduation, instead of after the ceremony. I unwrapped a rich violet-colored journal and started to flip the pages to see if it were blank or lined. I wasn’t expecting the journal to have already been filled out. Every. Single. Page. I sat my alarm, grabbed some snacks, and settled in.
Peanut,
We began writing this when you were just six years old. In fact, we wrote the very first entry after dropping you off for your first day of first grade. You were so excited that you were up at five a.m., dressed and ready to go. It’s a day I’ll never forget. Growing up, your family looked a little different than most of your friends, but you were never short on love. We couldn’t be more proud of you than we are on this day, but before you tackle your future, it’s time
you learn your past. We didn’t always make the best choices, but I wouldn’t change a thing, and I hope you’ll be able to understand.
Love you,
Mom
A lump in my throat began to form, but still, I turned the page.
Dearest Daughter,
I can’t believe we’re sending you off to college. My baby. You can’t even begin to imagine how proud I am of you. I knew from the day I held you in my arms and looked into eyes just like mine that you were destined for greatness. You are the very best of all of us. The following words may be hard to read at times, but we raised you to understand that no one is perfect. We tried our very best, with no regrets. Stay safe, and keep up with your car insurance premium!
Behave yourself,
Dad
My poor dad. He’d done the exact same thing when I lost my first tooth, my balance atop the cheerleading pyramid, and my virginity just last year. He’d started with coddling me and then caught himself and did his best to switch it up for some tough love. God love him.
When I flipped the page, I couldn’t help but grin ear to ear. This should be interesting.
Half Pint,
How the hell did this happen so fast? When I first came into your life, you barely came up to my kneecaps. It’s been an absolute honor to watch you grow. Sports medicine. Wow. Reach for those stars. If anyone can actually grab hold, it’s you. You grew up on those sidelines. You went from a wide eyed kid cheering us on to water girl and soon, team doctor. You are your mama’s daughter.
Please go easy on her. You were always her number one. Oh! Umm, so, sorry about the language and...stuff, but you’re old enough now, and we all agreed, full disclosure. Now, don’t think that makes you all adult and shit cause the second we get wind of some dick acting up, me and your dad will head that way, ready to kick some ass.